Can We Mend Our Brokenness Together?
by ItachiBlack
Summary: Jack moved to a much smaller city to escape from all the hurt from the past. He wants to heal alone at his own time, space and pace. However, he keeps getting mails that are intended for Ms. Elsa Osborne each Thursday. He never expects to have her come to his doorsteps, to learn more about her and her ongoing pains - and to fall in love again for who she is.
1. Chapter 1

**Can We Mend Our Brokenness Together?**

**AN: This story will touch some, if not many, sensitive topics such as domestic abuse, gaslighting, and toxic masculinity - perhaps more. It may trigger some audiences, but I do hope that by writing again from a male perspective through stories can get us to think and reflect about some of the dark social issues. I hope readers enjoy my writing.**

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_**Chapter 1 (Jack's Perspective): New Society, New World, New Darkness**_

There was the slight scent of bitterness escaping from the aroma of the coffee. The blue cup felt hot to the touch, but it was comforting whilst knowing that the cold was always wanting to creep into the house, almost as if it were breathing through the clear glass windows. Jack put down his cup of coffee down onto the marble table countertop as he rummaged through the pile of letter - the usual mix between the owing bills, McDonald meal coupons, supermarket flyers, and the consistent delivery of a white envelope. Jack tossed out the McDonald meal coupons into the trash without much attention and then played with the small envelope between his long fingers. He read this now familiar, neat printing again for the 12th time while living in his new condominium. The sender sent a letter to his address every week and like a routine, Jack would see its arrival in his mailbox in the lobby every Thursday evening when he returned from work. It always read:

**To: Elsa Osborne**  
**#207-235 John Street N, Stratford, ON**  
**N5A 0G7**

**From: Mom**  
**1105 Pandora Ave, Victoria, BC**  
** V8V 3P9**

There was never further information on the envelope - certainly, there would be more if the white seal were to be torn open, but who would go and open a stranger's private mail? Jack picked up his cup and took a sip of his sweetened coffee. It had made him curious nevertheless - this mail was delivered each week - exactly on Thursday, for the past 3 months. It made him wonder why Ms. or Mrs. Elsa Osborne's mother never chose to email her daughter or call her daughter if she felt the need to write a mail to her on a weekly basis. Was she getting frustrated from the lack of response? Was she getting worried perhaps? Or was Ms. or Mrs. Elsa Osborne angry with her mother, unwanting to stay in touch with her mother? Or was this all, but a simple mistake in which both parties did not tell each other of the address changing? Jack gulped down another mouthful of coffee as he wondered silently. Normally, it would not have mattered much to him, but given that these mails were continually arriving to his new home, it had slowly made him feel concerned somehow for this daughter-mother pair. Yes, there was a small bit of him that wanted to peep into its content to know how to pass on these mails - but he had never done it. He had also tried contacting the condominium's manager to know if the lady had known where Ms. Elsa Osborne had moved to, but confusingly enough, the old lady with a neat bun tied up in her blonde hair replied, "I'm sorry, but there never was a lady named Ms. Elsa Osborne living here. We never had a tenant under that name before..."

Jack wondered aloud this time, "I wonder who did live here before..."

Jack scoffed at himself, knowing well that there would be no way for him to know since such information was private. The sigh escaping from his lips echoed the loneliness he felt ever since living alone here. Jack stared at the clock hanging from the wall. It was 5:10 PM. Even though he was feeling tired after working a full day, he knew it was time for him to start preparing for his supper. He turned around to open his dark open fridge as the machine itself hummed loudly. His eyes darted between each ingredient - bacon, steak, eggs, baby cucumbers, baby tomatoes, baby potatoes, red and orange peppers, asparagus, various types of mushrooms, garlic, ah he forgot about those baby carr- _knock, knock, knock._

Jack looked up from the door of his refrigerator. His brows knitted. He shouldn't have any visitors of any kind - as he barely knew anyone in this small, quiet city. Feeling more perplexed by the second, Jack closed the fridge door while trudging down towards the entrance door. He peered through the ever tiny hole to see who it was. It was a blonde stranger. She looked very small, frightened, and cold as her cheeks were completely paled white and she kept on looking from one side of the corridor to the other end. It was as if she was thinking that she was being followed or chased by someone. She looked up, looking desperate, and Jack was able to take a closer look at her face. Her eyes were bright blue and he could notice the light freckles on her face. It looked as if she were about to knock on the door again and before she could, Jack opened the door quickly enough - just enough so that the two could see each other.

"Hello?" He didn't intend to sound curious. Whoops.

The blonde haired lady replied timidly, "Hi..."

He tilted his head and asked, "May I help you?"

She repeated, "H-help, help me?"

Before he could say anything more, she continued, "This is going to sound crazy and super weird, but would you happen to have some mails for -"

Jack whispered, "Ms. Elsa Osbone…."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you for the views, the new followers, favourite add-ons and the review my dear readers! I hope you enjoy the second chapter. If you have any questions at any point in the future, please do not hesitate to ask. Sincerely, IB.**

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**Chapter 2: Those Casual yet Important Letters** (Jack's Pespective)

Ms. Elsa Osborne... Jack stared at this disheveled lady. Pity. That was the first emotion he felt for her as he noticed the cold dripping from the fringes of her hair - the bits of snow on her hair was starting to melt. It wasn't surprising to see her trembling. She must have been terribly cold. She was merely wearing a loose beige scarf which one of her hands was desperately clinging to. Her coat also looked too thin for the freezing weather - as far as Jack knew, it was - 19 Celsius outside and that did not include the wind-chill.

Jack repeated, "Letters?"

Ms. Elsa nodded her head very quickly and said, "I know it must be so weird to have me to come to your place …. but I _really_ need those letters."

Jack's eyes darted back to where his kitchen was as he knew exactly where those letters were. They were still neatly stacked on top of his kitchen counter. He slowly responded, "Yes, I do have them, but um... look - you look like you're freezing Miss. It's bothering me. Would you feel comfortable to come inside to warm up a bit?"

Alarm seemed to flood her eyes at his invitation. _Of course, it would be extremely strange for her. If I were a woman, I wouldn't feel comfortable or safe to enter an unknown man's house._ Jack felt a tang of guilt for asking as she truly did look alarmed - her blue eyes widening as she blankly stared at him.

Jack quickly added, "You don't have to if you don't feel safe to do so - I'm sure it was strange for me to ask you."

Ms. Elsa smiled meekly as if to show some sort of agreement to his statement. Her voice softened and said, "It must be just as strange to have me in front of your steps."

Jack gave an honest answer, "Just a tiny bit. But I had been wanting to give them to you - I just didn't know how. Let me go get them quickly."

Jack walked away from the doorsteps after seeing her nod her head quietly. He walked down the dim hallway towards his kitchen. There was his blue cup of coffee and the stack of letter he had left aside earlier. He picked them up gingerly and then stared at his cup again. The lady wisely did not want to enter his home, but she did look very cold and wet - perhaps he could offer her a cup of hot coffee. That could be a kind gesture. He put the letters down once more and turned to the upper cupboard next to his black fridge. That fridge never stopped humming its low-key tune. Jack pulled out a white mug and then poured the steaming, black content into it. He wasn't sure if Ms. Elsa would offer the cup of coffee - or if she even liked coffee and how she enjoyed her coffee. However, he saw no point in fretting alone in his kitchen. He firmed his eyes tightly as if to fight away that dark, creeping memory from the past.

He shook his head as his mind produced that cold voice of the woman he wanted to forget: _"You never know what I want! You never do anything right_ Jack!"

He quickly grabbed the white mug of coffee and the small stack of envelope and rushed out of the kitchen to escape from that unwanted feeling. Much to his surprise, he noticed that Ms. Elsa had in fact taken a step into his house - still shivering and she smiled shyly, keeping her eyes on the ground. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I really was cold, but I can step back out if you want me to." Her whisper would have been extremely hard to catch if his house hadn't been very quiet.

Jack replied softly, "It's alright with me. Um... Here's your letters and I wasn't sure, but I also grabbed you a cup of coffee since it's nice and warm. But I didn't know how you liked your coffee, so - uh, here."

Jack offered the cup to her gently and quickly added, "It's quite hot, so please do be careful."

Ms. Elsa took the mug very carefully with her pale, long fingers. She replied, "Thank you, for the coffee." Despite her words, her eyes were more fixated on the letters. Noticing this, Jack quickly passed the letters to her too.

Without a moment to waste, Ms. Elsa put down the mug onto the floor and began to tear open one letter after another. Jack observed her silently and it appeared as if she were in her open separate world. He could see her eyes tearing through each word written on every letter just like the way her fingers had ripped open each flimsy paper that concealed the letters. Jack couldn't help but feel genuinely apprehensive and he couldn't help but sit on the floor with her while watching her clear blue eyes slowly pool with tears. Ms. Elsa appeared to be trying her utmost best to stifle her sniffles as she digested the written contents. Jack truly wanted to tell her that '_everything will be okay - it's alright_', but who was he to know or judge that things were fine and 'okay' for her? After all, he had only known and met this young lady for the past few minutes. Instead, he carefully whispered, "It's okay to cry. Take your time."

Ms. Elsa seemed to have been shocked to hear his uttered words and she stared up at him for the first time and showed the fresh tears slowly dwindle its way down from her eyes to her now rosy cheeks and to her rounded chin. It was as if his words comforted her in a way as her eyes - it appeared as though she felt relieved to be allowed to cry as her eyes produced more tears - one blurring tear streak after another. Jack could hear her sniffles from her nose.

She choked, "I must seem crazy to you."

_Not really. Not at all in fact._ Jack didn't admit or share this aloud, but this ongoing situation was very much familiar to him - it was so damn familiar that he could feel that clawing pain within his chest. He knew what it was like to cry alone on the floor - in the darkness, alone, producing sounds that were nearly deafening.

Jack only spoke softly to her, "Not at all, Ms. Elsa. We should be allowed to cry when we feel the need to - be it because we feel sad, hurt, betrayed, damaged …." his voice dwindled. Elsa pulled out one bank cheque after another from each torn envelope. She wiped the hot, brimming tears from her eyes. She explained, "These cheques are from my mother..."

Jack had already known, but he politely said, "Is that so?"

_I wonder why her mother needs to send her bank cheques to her..._

Before she could reply back, Jack and Ms. Elsa were both startled as they could hear the slamming noise of the entrance doors not being held. Jack scratched the back of his head and asked, "Um, would you like to close the front door so my neighbours won't see us on the floor like this?"

Ms. Elsa rubbed her eyes to get the tears out of her eyes again and she replied back, "Of course. This must be very uncomfortable for you...um."

Jack got up from his sitting position and closed his front door gently. He turned around and introduced himself, "My name is Jack."

She repeated his name softly, "Mr. Jack."

Jack chuckled at the formalness and said, "You can just call me Jack, Ms. Elsa. I'm not the biggest fan for formalities."

She showed a small smile - _she looks pretty when she smiles -_ and also said, "Then, please call me Elsa, Mr - sorry. Jack."

Jack smiled back and asked calmly, "Are you feeling alright? We could talk a bit more if you'd like at the dining room table instead of on the cold floor. I just think it may be more comfortable for you, compared to my cold, tile floors."

Her eyes were casted towards the ground again as if she had only realized that she had been sitting there on the floor for a while now. She rushed to gather each scrap of paper that had been casted aside from its original envelopes. She seemed very focused as not to leave a mess behind. She also made sure to gather the letters that her mother had written for her - and of course, she did not forget about the white mug. Jack watched and noted how fast she was to clean up after herself and her cautious nature itself. He couldn't help but notice this because even while walking down the corridor, she was careful as not to spill even a single droplet of the coffee while rushing herself in. Jack walked behind her, but also made sure to give her enough space. She paused when they reached the deeper abode of his home. She must have noticed herself pausing, as she then slowly approached Jack's white, birch table set. She sat herself down and put down the mug, the letters, and the torn envelopes. She looked up at Jack for a brief moment and asked, "May I please throw out the bits of paper?"

Jack found it extremely strange that she was asking for his permission to throw out the garbage. He replied gently, "Of course you may."

She approached the large black garbage bin next to his kitchen counter and threw out the bits of paper and then went back to the chair on which she had sat. She kept her eyes lowered and said, "I can explain myself …. I know I intruded today. I am sorry Jack."

Jack was going to reply back, but they were alarmed again for the second time. **BAM! BAM! BAM!**

They both glanced towards the hallway, where the front door was located. It was not a pleasant knock in the least. It was extremely loud and in a way, Jack could state that his door was being slammed upon aggressively. Jack looked back to Elsa to excuse himself, but he frowned to see Elsa shaking in her seat. He could have sworn easily that she was slinking herself deeper and deeper into the seat of the chair as if she had the desire to shrink and press herself flat onto the chair.

Jack wanted to ask what was wrong, but again, **SLAM! SLAM! SLAM!**

He could then hear a male voice screaming "ANNA. ELSA. I KNOW YOU TWO ARE IN THERE! OPEN THE GODDAMN, FUCKING DOOR!"

Jack's teeth gritted at the deep, booming animosity. He could feel the strands of hair on the nape of his neck standing and his body tensing. He already knew that there was a very thuggish, agressive, hostile man cursing at the front of his house and there wasn't an ounce in him that appreciated such aggressiveness. Jack turned to his frightened guest and spoke gently, "I will be right back."

When he walked towards the door and he could feel the heaviness of his own steps as he walked closer and closer to the door.

"I SAID TO OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"

Jack swung open his door and he glowered at the man before him. The man was quite tall and large - he could easily tell that this man was quite well-built despite his thick, black sweater and sweatpants. His long brown hair was sleeked back. Despite this man's earlier menacing shout, the man seemed rather startled to see him open the door instead of Ms. Elsa or Ms. Anna.

Anger was pummeling through his veins. Jack could feel his triggered adrenaline - he never expected to be triggered like this today or in the small city he had moved into. His usual calm, gentle voice came out like a deep growl. "What do you want?" Jack made sure to keep most of the door closed as he continued to glare angrily at the unknown man.

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**AN: If you have some time, please try to leave a review as I would be glad to hear your opinions. Thank you.**


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